


Target Practice, or Seeing Red

by jenofvengerberg



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Drabble, Female Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 05:32:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2336987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenofvengerberg/pseuds/jenofvengerberg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cass and the Courier do some female bonding while trying to dodge bullets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Target Practice, or Seeing Red

"Are you sure we're not related?" asked Six, ducking back behind the wrecked husk of a Pre-War car, her face flushed magenta with adrenaline. Cass hopped up from their cover with her trusty shotgun, proudly wiping away a pair of Powder Gangers that had gotten too close.

"I hope to hell not!" the cowgirl retorted, taking her turn for cover. The courier sprung back out, squinted down the sight of her prized .44 and removed a rather irate Ganger's head with her trigger finger. Three down, three to go. The remaining men had found their own busted car to huddle behind, assessing the red, sticky remains of their buddies. Six chose to humour them, and crouched back behind her own cover to hear Cass' opinions.

"First of all." she began while reloading her weapon, her frantic voice betraying her calm hands. "First of all, having my old man wander back out there, knock up another starry-eyed lady and then vanish is not something I'd wish upon any woman in this godforfuckingsaken Wasteland. And - _second..._ " she grunted while cocking the barrel, "You're too goddamned nice. I aim for the center of mass, so those dead fuckers over there? They had to suffer for a second. You shooting the guy in the face seems downright polite next to that."

Six chuckled obligingly, keeping one ear on her companion's tirade and the other on the nervous mumbling coming from their would-be attackers' position. 

"I save one town from being run down by two-bit convicts, and suddenly I've won Miss Congeniality." she said drly, keeping her magnum at the ready. It had come down to both sides waiting for the other to pop out first. Six could deal with waiting. She had better company, in any case.

"Speaking of winning," Cass answered, jabbing her boss in the ribs with a knuckle, "Here's how I know we can't be related: you got all the curves in the best fucking places. I oughta set you up with Long Dick Johnson just to see what kind of Amazon you two can produce."

Despite sharing locks of raging scarlet hair and freckles to match, the womens' stature was what kept the sons of bitches in the Mojave from seeing double: Cass' imposing, solid frame dwarfed over Six's non-threatening height with her ample bust, swerving waistline and shocking hips. The cowgirl'd seen the courier use those assets to get them out of trouble more than once. It was efficient and saved ammo, but sometimes shooting assholes was more satisfying than outsmarting them. Fortunately, stumbling upon the pissed off Powder Gangers let them make up for those missed opportunities. 

Six fished through her satchel aggressively, pulling out five frag grenades, all of which she then gave to Cass to shut her up.

Cass grinned widely and stuck a grenade pin between her teeth, 

"See, I rest my case. You are too god damn nice."

With years of hauling around packages on caravans and toting a shotgun, Cass had developed arm strength that was impressive, to say the least. Her talents came in handy as she hurled the explosives across the broken road, landing one discretely in the frame of the Gangers' chosen car, another right at their feet. The rest she kept, just in case they ran into more of these jackasses' pals later.

Six had already cushioned her ears with her hands, and as such she didn't hear the mens' final, strangled words of _"What the--?_ " before being cut off by a matter-of-fact **BLAM**. Cass happily employed her muscles to yank the boss upright again so that the Courier could admire the handiwork. Beneath the shade of her big hat, Six could see Cass out-right beaming.

"Y'know Cass, one of these days someone is going to get you _really_ mad, and I'm not sure I want to be the one to clean it up." 


End file.
